


Burdens

by die-forellex (heatinfreezing)



Series: RivaMika Smutmas 2017 [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dom Levi, Edging, F/M, Orgasm Denial, Rough Sex, Slapping, sub mikasa, they both just have a lot of pent up feelings, with some snuggles afterward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:31:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatinfreezing/pseuds/die-forellex
Summary: It has to be him. With anyone else it would simply be a game, a lie told for the sake of the scenario.  He is her equivalent, her counterpart in this mess, the only one strong enough to shoulder her burdens even if it’s only in this room.





	Burdens

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys it’s me again, pumping out smut again...check the tags for some warnings on this one. Also it’s like, technically for smutmas rivamika candlelight prompt but like, jfc this is lacking in any sort of appropriate holiday cheer...LOL.

_“If you surrendered to the air, you could ride it.” --Toni Morrison_

* * *

 

Mikasa walks into Levi’s room without knocking. He should expect her at this point. He knows that she always comes to him after a day like today. The room is dark but for the soft glow of candlelight.

Everyday pushes herself farther than she thought she was capable of. It’s a struggle, a battle to stay sane, retreating more and more into herself until she’s not sure if she really  _feels_ anything.

They’ve fallen into a routine as much as they’ve fallen into one another. Weekly, after she has finished her day of training garrison regiment troops she comes to him. 

She watches him finish the last sentence he’s writing and calmly set down his quill pen; unhurried and blasé as if he doesn’t know exactly what she’s come here for.  

She walks to him with purpose, pulls his chair from his desk and straddles him. He remains expressionless as she buries her fingertips in his hair, his indifference simultaneously an irritation and a challenge.

If she didn’t know him so well she would take this at face value, that he’s bored and doesn’t care for her presence but she knows this isn’t true. She can feel the tension between the two of them, she always has even if in the past she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. It’s in the set of his jaw, a slight glimmer in his eyes, an involuntary twitch of his muscle as she touches him underneath his shirt. Mikasa enjoys pushing him, enjoys seeing how much it takes to unravel him, to crack beneath that cool facade that she too employs.

“Is this what you’re in the mood for today?” He asks boredly, as she unbuttons his shirt and slides it off of his shoulders.

Some nights he lets her tie him up and do whatever she pleases to him. She loves seeing such a strong man fall apart at the touch of her hands and mouth until he all but begs her to let him finish. It’s thrilling to see him like that, but most importantly she knows that she doesn’t need to hold back. Not with him.

But tonight that’s not what she wants. She’s tired of being in control, exhausted from holding so many lives in her hands on a daily basis. Not for the first time Mikasa wonders how he has endured years of being the man worth an entire brigade.

She shakes her head no, and that’s enough for him to understand. Quickly he stands up, lifting her as he does so and throws her onto the bed.

“Take off your clothes then.”

The way he says it makes her shiver. It’s not threatening, not menacing, but it leaves little room for defiance.

Her initial instinct is to ignore him, to push back, to fight even this simple command but she knows that that’s exactly what she’s trying to escape: her instinct to fight.

So Mikasa slowly peels away her clothes until she’s naked. She feels his eyes on her, can sense the desire that she sparks inside of him and that alone makes her heart race and hair stand on end. It’s a sweet tension between them that shoots into her body and makes her feel painfully alive, so much so that it banishes the numbness from earlier.

He takes off his pants and she watches shamelessly at how the muscles in his back tense and flex as he bends over, powerful arms that she wants to imagine holding her down while she struggles against him.

“Stand up,” he says shortly.

She wants to listen, wants to force herself to let go even if it’s the most counterintuitive thing for her stubborn nature, but it doesn’t come easily. He senses her hesitation, senses that today will be more of a battle for the relief she so desperately craves.

He grabs her by her hair and pulls her to him, the sting of it nearly bringing tears to her eyes. He ,kisses her hard on the mouth with his hand still fisted in her hair. It’s a harsh meeting of teeth and tongue that she can barely call a kiss and she can’t help but moan.

He pulls away from her and looks at her and for a moment the momentum between them stops, a brief flash of awareness in his eyes as he looks at her.

“You’ll tell me to stop if you want.”

His words are a command but she knows it’s more of a question, that he needs to know that she will say if it’s too much. This hasn’t ever happened, but she knows it’s important for the both of them, that they can’t push the other far enough without this contingency.

“Yes,” she says quietly.

With that it’s fast. He struggles with her, turns her around pulls her so their bodies are flush against one another. He presses a hand to her stomach and the other to her sex, putting two fingers inside of her and she bites her lip so she doesn’t make any sound because she knows how much he likes that, knows how much he loves that she wants him. Her attempt at deception is futile.

“You’re already so wet for me, have you been thinking about this all day?”

This arrogance frustrates her. She doesn’t understand why she wants him the way she does, why it’s so easy for him to make her fall apart and it stings her pride so she denies him, pushes him away and pushes him down onto the bed, straddling him despite the fact that she said that she wanted submission.

_It needs to be earned today._

She can’t just let go, can’t let her ironclad will acquiesce so easily. She loves seeing him beneath her, loves knowing that she has the ability to overpower him with her strength and it’s just too satisfying to resist.

She sinks herself onto him and winces slightly at how sudden it is to have him inside of her. She knows Levi would be fine with letting her have her way with him, to ride him until she was sick with pleasure, but he knows that’s not what she asked for, not what she needs.

With a growl he sits up and pushes her onto her back, the mattress creaking as he does so, and he pins her down with his body weight and thrusts into her hard. The power of the motion alone sets fire to her blood, weakens her resolve and makes her want to give in, let him use her the way she desires, but another part of her still can’t can’t let go.

“Hit me,” she demands.

He doesn’t hesitate to strike her across the face with an open palm hard enough her head turns to the side and it makes her groan. 

“Again.”

The second time she lets out an embarrassing moan, her body tense and shivering from the strange combination of pain and arousal she experiences. Her world simultaneously expands and contracts. Her body opens up to him, craves all of him all while every sensation and detail is heightened; his hands on her shoulders, his cock inside of her, the sheen of sweat coating his skin, all of it overwhelming yet leaving her needing more.

Her resolve is weakening, she works her hips up against him desperately, reaches down between her legs to touch herself. When she thinks she’s close he grabs her hand and pins it over her head. She whines, a needy, pathetic sound at this denial.

He leans down so his chest is pressed against hers, his strong arms pinning her own over her head as he thrusts into her hard and fast but not the way she needs.

“You need to ask for it or I’ll do this all night, you know I can,” he says darkly in her ear and she cries out frustratedly, futilely canting her hips against his for relief that she can’t achieve without his cooperation.

She can’t bring herself to beg, can’t bring herself to ask for it so he ruts into her relentlessly, bringing her to a fevered, miserable place right before climax that has her biting back frustrated sobs and struggling against his grip on her wrists. Even now, no matter how badly she wants it she can’t beg, can’t surrender her pride.

“Do you want me to stop?” he says into her ear.

“No!”

Her voice is low and broken sounding, foreign and uncomfortable for her to hear but she can’t help it, can’t help that this is wearing her down, that she just wants to come.

“I’ll stop if you don’t ask,” he goads.

She responds by pressing her heel into his back and thrusting up against him again.

“Harder,” she demands, hoping that this is sufficient.

He grabs her chin between his thumb and forefinger and turns her to face him, so she’s looking right into his eyes, pupils blown and sweat beading on his brow she’s struck by how he still seems so in control, so calm.

“Beg or I’ll stop.” He says it as if he were telling her to take the right flank of the formation or go and get the new soldiers out from the maneuvering course.

She cries out as he slows and something breaks inside of her, that last bit of resolve to resist him gone and  _god_ if it doesn’t feel good to surrender. 

“Please, make me come, please,” she says finally.

He lets go of her hands and kisses her sloppily, her arms wrap around him and press him to her as he finally fucks her the way she needs it. She moans into his mouth and digs her fingertips into his shoulders, leaving white marks on his flushed skin as she comes.

She can feel all of the blood in her body, swears she can see it moving through her veins beneath her sweat slicked skin as she gasps for air. This feeling is the only freedom she knows anymore, the only true peace she experiences. He collapses on her for a moment, the weight of his body a comfort as she presses him closer to her and embraces him as they both catch their breath.

Mikasa closes her eyes. She needed this, needed him to make her surrender. It has to be him. With anyone else it would simply be a game, a lie told for the sake of the scenario.

They have their disagreements, but more than anything she can’t think of anyone she can trust more than him. He is her equivalent, her counterpart in this mess, the only one strong enough to shoulder her burdens even if it’s only  in this room.

He rolls off of her and lays on his side. He runs a gentle hand through her hair, the same hand he’d slapped her with moments earlier. He kisses her softly with the same mouth that had teased her and she lets herself melt against him, all vestiges of her pride and fear gone in these moments after, at least temporarily. He kisses up across her cheekbone, then smooths his thumb over the place he’d hit.

“Was that okay?”

She simply nods and pulls the covers over them.

“You’re staying?” he asks. She can tell he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral but she knows he’s glad for it.

“Mm,” she hums contentedly and wraps her arms around him, tangles her legs up in his to banish the chill of the room.

He snuffs out the candle on the nightstand, the moonlight the only thing illuminating the room now. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, enjoying the smell of the candle smoke and the military issue soap on Levi’s skin.

Tomorrow her burdens will be there and she will carry them because she is a woman of fortitude and it’s her duty, both to the Survey Corps and to Eren.

But tonight she will sleep easy and let herself relax while she holds him in her arms and shares his bed.


End file.
